


Surprisingly, There is Hope

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Fear, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Protective Crowley, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:01:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26217553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: A demon shouldn't deal in hope, but sometimes Crowley can't help himself.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 63
Collections: A Little Hope





	Surprisingly, There is Hope

Crowley huddled with the pack of humans as they hid. If he really wanted, he could have strolled out of the place and, well, smiting wasn't really his thing, but he could have shifted into a snake and slipped away with no one the wiser.

But there were a dozen or so humans here and several children and they were all so scared...

Outside the sound of battle and war carried on the air. Humans always did seem to take a certain amount of pleasure in harming one another. Well, some humans did. And they'd take every life in here if they were found. Crowley had quietly hidden the door from human eyes, but also things didn't always go to plan. 

Someone shouted nearby and one of the children started to cry. Crowley sat down and pulled the kid into his lap. They lay their head on his shoulder, shaking with fear.

"Do you want to hear a story?" asked Crowley, quiet, but loud enough for the others to hear. His voice wouldn't carry anyway if he didn't want it to.

There were murmurs and nods around him.

Humans had always liked stories. Crowley had listened in on them since the earliest days, tales shared around campfires, parents giving lessons to their children, elders sharing stories about the past, the present and the future, the Gods and men.

"Once long ago, when the world was new, there was a beautiful garden," said Crowley, letting himself remember. "And it was a bit of a set up job, because they were told to obey some rules, but then the rules were very easy to break. So they were kicked out of the garden."

A few of the older adults shared glances. 

"But even though things looked really bad," said Crowley quickly, “They weren't as dire as they seemed. Yeah, the garden had been beautiful and everything they needed was right there, it turned out that when they were cast out, they had to learn to make things for themselves."

People started to settle down as Crowley talked. He was a demon, he knew the power of words. A whisper in the right ear could start a revolution, turn father against son, start the ball rolling on a whole host of problems. But as he watched the humans around him start to relax he knew he was tapping into the other possibility - hope.

Crowley spun a tale of overcoming adversity, of dark times when it seemed the light was almost out, only for the last embers to leap back into flame. The child in his arms started to fall asleep and he rocked them gently as he spoke, feeling a calm come over himself as well.

By the time he wrapped up his story the sounds outside had ceased. Crowley passed the sleeping child to one of the adults and moved to the door. "Just stay here," he said.

Carefully, Crowley eased the door open. Night had fallen and most of the village was destroyed. The dead lay scattered among the ruins.

Nodding, Crowley stepped back to the others. "There's another village, just over those hills," he said, pointing. "I know you've never been there, but they'll take you in and get you through the winter."

He reached into his robes and pulled out a sack. "This will hold enough food to get you there," he said, performing a quick and silent miracle on it.

"Thank you," murmured one of the adults.

"Naw, don't mention. I mean it. Don't mention it. I was never here," said Crowley. "Now go, don't stop, just go straight out of the village and on your way."

She nodded and led the way out of the building, clutching the sack in her hands. The rest of the group silently followed her, keeping the children close.

Crowley waited for them to go, watching them hurrying along the edge of the forest in the moonlight. Always hard, leaving everything you'd known behind, holding on to the hope of what was to come.

He looked around the village one more time then turned and walked off in the other direction. Demons shouldn't deal in hope, and yet Crowley had never quite been able to shake the habit. Besides, hell would hardly notice the handful of humans that had survived the day. He vanished into the darkness, leaving only the memory of a story behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to beltainefaerie for reading and encouraging along, and give some very good suggestions


End file.
